


And Let It In

by TheBlueSheep



Category: Gintama
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Hypothermia, Malnutrition, Sickfic, tags maybe to be added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-08-12 16:15:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7940971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBlueSheep/pseuds/TheBlueSheep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“The boy trailed a few paces behind Otose, forcing her to slow down even more.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Compulsory biannual sickfic wooo!! Written to make myself feel a bit better about not posting anything. Cause y’know. Angst is easy to write. And stuff. Ye. (Someone please end me and my misery.) 
> 
> This story is partly inspired by “Human” by Of Monsters and Men

The boy trailed a few paces behind Otose, forcing her to slow down even more. She wanted to get them out of the cold as quickly as possible, but there simply wasn’t much she could do when she could practically _feel_ the kid getting sicker and weaker with every step he took. His health had quickly deteriorated since they left the graveyard and if before he’d looked sick and exhausted and cold, then by now he looked like death itself was breathing down his neck, whispering sweet promises about finding peace in dying.

The kid was still trying to hide how badly he was feeling the best he could by keeping his expression neutral and steps steady. Otose could tell he’d spent a long time perfecting his neutral mask, but just by listening his shallow shuddering breaths she could also tell how he just wanted to lay down in the snow and never get up again. She was actually rather impressed he hadn’t done that already. It seemed as if something incredibly stupid and stubborn inside him was keeping him walking.

Just as the sign of her shop came to view and she started thinking that he might actually make it, she finally heard him stumble and stop. She turned quickly, expecting to see him face down on the icy ground, but was surprised to see him still standing, though leaning heavily on a nearby electric post, heaving like after running a marathon, and puking up her husband's offering.

_'Malnutrition or hypothermia?_ ' Otose wondered to herself as she tried sliding her hand soothingly along the boy's back. Both were a bad reason to puke up things, but when she felt how cold his scrawny body was and how easily she could trace the sharp bumps along the line of his spine, she got the feeling it was a bad mixture of both.

Not thinking about it twice, she took off her own haori and pulled it over his shoulders. That finally got his attention and he attempted shrugging it off.

"I'll get it dirty," he croaked out.

"Clothes can be washed, idiot," she snapped back, pulling the haori tighter around him and supporting him from the shoulders as he doubled over again and dry-heaved, stomach already empty, but the nausea still there and Otose felt her heart drop as his knees buckled and he struggled to stay on his feet. He squeezed his eyes shut and Otose was so sure he wouldn’t even make it to the bar. He'd just die out here in the cold, so close to warmth and comfort but not having the strength to reach it.

"It's not far anymore, kid. You can actually see it from here," she still tried encouraging him and whether it was her words that worked or he realised he wouldn't be able to move anymore if he stayed there any longer, but he pushed himself away from the post and nearly fell, but stayed up by some miracle. She kept a hand on his back, leading and pushing whenever needed for the rest of the way.

He stumbled into the bar and Otose manoeuvred him to one of the couches and forced him to sit on it.

"Wait here for a moment," she told him needlessly. As soon as he sat, he just sank deep into the cushion, trying to pull the haori even closer around himself. "Don't lie down and whatever you do, don't pass out."

"I know that," the stupid kid had the actual audacity to try and sound irritated.

Ignoring how his irritation sounded more like a pathetic whimper than anything else, she snapped back, "You're a hundred years too early to act smart with me, brat.”

If he had the strength to be pissed, then there was still some hope for him and Otose wasn’t above feeding his irritation if it kept him alive.

She left him on the couch, looking back once just to see him absentmindedly scanning the room out of sheer habit if nothing else, then sighing, and relaxing a bit more.

First thing she did was switching the electric kettle on in the kitchen, and only then went to prepare a spare futon. She dragged out a few heavier blankets as well as a yukata that once belonged to her husband, and left them on the floor. The yukata was old and the colour mostly faded, but it was at least clean and dry, and fit for a kid who probably won’t survive. By the time she was done, the water had boiled and she poured some of it into a cup, and the rest into a washbowl. Then she added a few spoonfuls of sugar into the cup, stirred it briefly, grabbed the first-aid kit and a few clean towels and took all of it to the other room.

When everything was prepared she went to get the kid, finding him with his eyes closed and in the exact same position she'd left him. He was completely still and for a moment Otose thought he’d actually died on her couch, but as she approached, he opened one eye and studied her with the same clarity and determination she'd seen in him in front of her husband's grave. The brat was obviously very sick and clearly on the verge of death, but something in him made Otose believe he had a chance to survive and recover from this.

He even tried getting up by himself, but failed every time, slumping back onto the couch with a soft grunt. After his third try Otose wordlessly grabbed his wrist and brought his arm over her shoulders, helping him up and through the bar to the futon she'd set up. At least he was supporting most of his own weight and only needed help keeping balance. She didn’t think she could have carried him, even as malnourished as he was.

His hands were shaking so bad he couldn't untie the obi, damp and stiff from dirt and grime, so Otose had to help him change out of the dirty kimono. She cleaned and dressed the worst of his wounds, trying to be extra careful when he flinched in pain as the warm wet towel touched his frozen skin. He kept squirming around and trying to get her to stop by telling her he was fine and that his wounds weren’t bad at all. She simply ignored his attempt to get away, and he gave up the fight soon enough, just too tired to bother with it any longer. He didn't make a sound after that, and Otose figured the sooner they got it over with, the sooner he could rest and the bigger chance he had at surviving. She decided to leave the bruises and some minor cuts unattended right now, since he seemed to have trouble even sitting up now.

When everything was done, she shoved the warm cup between his frozen fingers. He eyed the liquid inside it suspiciously, making no move to drink.

“It’s not poisoned, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

The boy blinked. “No, it’s not that. Just probably gonna puke it out again.”

“Well, if you do, then sorry, but there’s really nothing else I can do for you. These’ll be your final hours to live. Are you content with that?”

The boy frowned. “It’s not that bad. I’m just tired. Let me sleep for an hour or two and I’ll be good as new. Always am.”

Otose scoffed. “Sure, Just Tired, if you say so. Let’s see you think like that when you’re dead. Kid, you need something to give you energy if you want to live through this. If you throw this up, it’ll be bad, but if you don’t drink, you’ll be dead for sure.”

He still hesitated before taking a cautious sip and his eyes shot wide open to stare at the cup like an unexplainable magic trick.

“It’s sweet!”

Otose snorted. “Yeah, sugar tends to be sweet.” The boy took another careful sip and she explained quietly, “If there’s anything someone in your condition can stomach, then it’s warm sugar water.”

“Told you already. It’s not that bad. I’m not gonna die.”

“Fine, fine, whatever you say, stupid brat. Just drink that and sleep and we’ll see how bad it is or isn’t later.”

“Well I ain’t gonna complain about anything sweet,” he shrugged and winced as he realised sharp movements were a mistake. He still looked thoroughly frozen and exhausted to the point of passing out, but kept drinking and looked fine enough for the moment, so Otose went to search for a few more blankets, keeping a steady eye on the brat in case he suddenly decided to pass out and needed help finding the pillow.

By the time she returned, he’d finished almost half and was struggling with the rest with a deep frown upon his brow. His hands were shaking even worse than before, nearly spilling the water. She gently took the cup from him before he managed to drop it.

“No need to force it, idiot brat. You’ll finish later.”

He looked up at her with an inexplicable expression that made something Otose’s chest ache, and just like that, it’s as if all energy he had was swept right out of him and he would’ve fallen on his face if Otose hadn’t caught him. He seemed startled, but too tired to actually care, and allowed himself to be helped properly onto the futon.

The boy didn’t even really fall asleep, but more like passed out, looking so incredibly young even with bruises on his cheeks and that grey hair matted with dirt and grime and dried blood.

She pulled the covers over him and tucked in from the sides to keep him warm. She hesitated for a second, then leaned her hand over his clammy forehead, frowning when it felt way too cool. As the last thing she could think of, she found a large shawl and wrapped it around his head.

The rest was up to him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kudos and comments! It makes me very happy to see people enjoying this piece ^^

Waking up felt like emerging from an ice cold lake and being thrown into the freezing air in the middle of winter with no clothes on and Gintoki couldn’t even tell which felt worse. He felt impossibly exhausted and heavy like there were lead weights pressing down on every inch of his body, and so cold that he was shivering nonstop. He wanted to just pass out again without even opening his eyes and trying to remember what’d happened, but there was a nagging feeling somewhere at the back of his head telling him he needed to wake up.

He tried listening to the sounds of a battle in case they needed him out there again, but all he could hear was – well, nothing really. He couldn’t hear Tatsuma’s laughing or Zura’s nagging or Takasugi scoffing out orders. It was as if his ears were filled with cotton and no sounds came through, not even the sound of a few hundred soldiers moving and living in the camp.

It was a struggle to open one eye and blink a few times to try to get the fog to dissipate. It took a while but eventually he was able to see a smooth wooden ceiling in the dim light. Turning his head a little he saw a kerosene heater, the flickering flame inside it emitting heat Gintoki couldn’t feel.

The sound of a fusuma sliding open got him to turn his head to the other side and open the other eye with a struggle. He was just about to test his voice and ask Zura where he got such a nice place.

It wasn’t Zura.

“You’re awake,” the old woman noted as she entered with a candle, filling the room with a bit more light.

“Where is this?” Gintoki croaked out, grimacing at the sound of his own voice and the scratching feeling in his throat.

She frowned, but kneeled down next to his head and set the candle on the floor.

“Kabukicho, Edo.”

“Edo? But that’s…” _nowhere near where the battle was,_ Gintoki wanted to say, but something sounded off. He tried to think, but his thoughts felt as sluggish and tired as his body. The last battle he remembered had been in… Somewhere near… Wait…

“Oh,” he said simply.

“Remember now?” the woman asked patiently.

“Yeah.” He closed his eyes again as the memories returned, stark against the fog that filled his aching head. “Was I out long?”

“A few hours. How are you feeling?”

Cold. Tired. Hurt. Sick. _Cold._ “Fine enough,” he said, trying to hide the shiver that claimed his body against his will.

There was a pause and Gintoki could practically feel her judging eyes on him. “You really are just a stupid brat, aren’t you?”

“Whaa..? Come on, granny! Cut me some slack here.” Gintoki peeked at her and nearly winced under her disapproving gaze. He sighed. “Fine, I feel like absolute crap.”  

“Good brat,” she said and Gintoki smiled.

He wasn’t comfortable, but moving probably would’ve made it worse, so he stayed put. Where he was now was still so much better than anywhere he’d slept for months and even years.

To distract himself from the aches and pains of his body he tried remebering random things like the name of Zura’s first pet duck or the haiku about Tatsuma’s loud voice Takasugi had made up one night when he was drunk, but the memories about the past few months kept interfering with his train of thought.  

It felt weird to be free and even weirder that no one would come that night to take him to another room for torture. He didn’t feel particularly thankful to the old man for setting him free and the kid would definitely be disappointed for net getting to cut off his head, but he didn’t really want to waste the old man’s effort either if he could help it. He’d try his best to survive.

A warm hand touched his forehead and Gintoki flinched, making a move to break free from the heavy covers and fight off the attacker without thinking.

“Relax, kid. Not gonna hurt you.”

Gintoki stilled at the voice, blinking slowly. Of course it was still the old woman, holding both empty hands up for Gintoki to see. He should’ve known it.

“Sorry.” He breathed out shakily. “Thought I saw an ugly Amanto.”

“Watch it, brat, or I might change my mind about hurting you.”

“Ah! Mean Granny!”

“Will be even meaner if you don’t stop moving around. I have no desire to watch anyone die.”

“Was that a threat? Damn, knew I picked the wrong–” a cough interrupted him and he tried taking a slow recovering breath.

Instead his throat closed up and suddenly he couldn’t breathe anymore. There wasn’t enough oxygen and the room tilted around him. Everything hurt as he seized violently, only vaguely aware of someone calling for him and the gentle hands on his shoulder and back. He kept coughing and coughing and there was no time in between to take a breath. His lungs were empty and burning, his chest collapsing in on itself, he couldn’t see and it hurt so much he thought he’d pass out.

He had no idea how long the torture lasted, but when he finally slowly started coming back to himself, he discovered he could breathe again. It still hurt and he heard a distinctive wheeze in every breath he took, but it was better than choking by a long range.

He was on his side and there was a firm hand on his shoulder keeping him steady. He guessed he’d passed out after all, because he didn’t remember being turned on his side. Next thing he realised was that someone was talking. He focused on that voice.

“… told you not to move, didn’t I? C’mon, kid, don’t tell me you have pneumonia, too. Didn’t bring you here just to watch you die, kid. You made a promise, remember? If you die then who’s going to keep that promise? Already have one watching over me in the afterlife, don’t need another and-”

“You’re babbling,” Gintoki whispered, interrupting her. He didn’t dare to speak up, afraid he’d start coughing again.

There was a pause. “Huh. Was pretty sure you passed out.” Gintoki didn’t answer. “Hold on, kid, I’ll be right back.”

Gintoki didn’t open his eyes, but he heard her get up and leave the room. She came back after a minute or so and kneeled down next to him again. “Hey, kid, open your mouth.”

“My moummtff??” Gintoki swallowed quickly against the spoon in his mouth before it got the chance to suffocate him. “Uhh, Granny?” he started, staring at another spoonful of what he thought was water wavering right before his nose. “Are you actually spoon-feeding me?”

“I’m not letting you sit up right now, you’ll start coughing again. Don’t think I’m enjoying this, you shitty brat,” she snapped, filling the spoon with water from a cup and shoving it in his mouth again, not even trying to be gentle. “Listen, kid, I think it’s about to get worse. You’re starting to warm up now and when the fever hits, it’ll hit you good right in the nuts.”

Gintoki swallowed, grimacing as his throat felt too narrow and raw even for warm water. “Seriously? Damn, I hate being sick.”

“And I don’t like sick brats, so there, we’re even.”

Gintoki kept dutifully drinking the water, not even having the energy to protest at the indignation of being spoon-fed. The warm water felt nice anyway, somewhat heating him up from the inside. They both stayed silent and soon he felt his thoughts slowly dispersing against his will. But before he went out, he needed to get something done.

“Hey Granny? If I don’t make it then... if you ever meet a man named Katsura Kotarou, he should know. I mean, dunno if he’s alive and I guess he sorta hates me now, but it’d be good if he knew.”

The old woman was quiet for a moment.

“Damn brat, what do I look like to you, a priest? I don’t wanna hear the last words of some shitty brat who doesn’t even know how to appreciate the taste of sake yet.”

“Hey, m’not a brat anymore. Stop calling me that.”

“Only real brats get offended by being called a brat, brat.”

Gintoki wanted to say something about that, but stopped as he felt his throat and chest tightening up again, threatening with another fit of coughing. Instead he curled up on his side, feeling sick. He thought he was shivering, but felt too out of it to tell for sure. He just wanted to sleep and it’d be good if he never woke up again. Maybe for the first time in his life he’d be lucky enough for that.

“Fine, I’ll stop calling you brat when you recover,” Granny said quietly

“I will remember that,” Gintoki tried to whisper, but wasn’t quite sure if he managed to sound coherent enough.

Granny answered anyway, her voice soft and oddly distant, “Then hang in there, brat. You’ll be okay.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kat believes in the power of shorter chapters and faster updates yaay!! Also, Happy Halloween to everyone celebrating it! (We don’t really celebrate it much where I live, actually. We have St. Martin’s day and St. Catherine’s day instead. But Halloween’s a good excuse to update! ^^)

It was 4AM and the kid was dying.

He’d somehow survived the night before and even the day after and Otose could even sneak in a few hours of sleep around noon when his fever stopped rising for a while and he was sleeping soundly enough. She still didn’t risk opening the bar because that would’ve meant leaving him alone for hours with no way to hear or see if something went wrong.

Things had been going well and he’d been awake in the evening, though visibly exhausted and very weak. They’d talked about trivial things for a while and he didn’t have much problems with the sugar water she made him drink in every few hours, though it did seem to knock him out for a while every time.

Later in the evening Otose tried feeding him a few bites of rice porridge, figuring he would have to start eating solid food sooner or later anyway, but that’s when things started going bad again. 

His fever rose rapidly and he threw it all up again. Then he curled up on the futon with his face against the pillow and hadn’t move since, save the occasional shivering. She didn’t dare try to move him after that, figuring he felt a little better being curled up like that. He hadn’t even made a sound and Otose had to keep watching the slow rise and fall of his chest, just to make sure he was still alive.

She’d removed most of his blankets and tried to cool him down a little with a wet towel on his neck, but it wasn’t really working. His fever was still rising and she couldn’t do anything about it, except sit with him and watch him slowly fade out and die.

Otose tried cheering herself up a little by thinking that at least he won’t be alone and she had done everything she could to help him. Every person deserved at least that much, no matter who they were and what they’d done. Besides, after having talked to him for a while, she thought he’d be the kind of person who’d be grateful for what little she’d done for him. But she still couldn’t help the bitter feeling of helplessness when watching the kid’s too thin limbs shake and twitch in fever, his skin sickly pale but blazing hot to the touch, and knowing she couldn’t do anything more to make his passing easier.

The kid made a whining sound and moved and Otose was already there to help him turn on his back. His eyes were wide open, but hazy and staring far off into something in his past. He didn’t see Otose or the room around him.

It took a minute for him to catch his breath as even turning around was obviously too much for him at the moment.

“Zura?” he breathed out.

“I’m not Zura, dumbass.”

“Right, right.” He choked out something akin to a laugh, mixed up with a weak cough. “Where’s Takasugi?”

Otose frowned. “He’s somewhere around, brat.”

“He got surrounded again. Stupid moron, he’ll get killed. We need to go save his tiny ass.”

“It’s fine, kid. He got out,” she said and very gently and slowly laid a cool towel over his forehead.

“I’m fine, Zura. You worry too much. You’ll get premature grey hair and I can tell from experience, ‘t’s not fun at all. M’getting up now.”

Otose watched him close his eyes and not move. If anything, he sank even deeper into the futon. He stayed silent, and Otose started to think maybe he’d slipped back into his restless sleep.

“You think he’ll be mad at us?” he suddenly asked very quietly, and Otose had to lean in closer to hear him. “He told us not to act. We went off and started a war. He’ll uppercut us into outer space, probably.” He seemed to think about what he’d said. “Can go see what the idiot is up to then, though. Heard he got himself a spaceship. I’m glad. He always loved ships.”

He went on for a while saying something else about ships and idiots and blowing things up, but most of it was too mumbled to understand. After some time he quieted down again, lingering on the border of being conscious and passed out. He seemed calm enough and Otose took the chance to quickly go and prepare some more warm sugar water for him.

He hadn’t moved by the time she returned, but as soon as she settled down, he trembled and opened his eyes.

“They’re all dead, aren’t they?” he asked with an eerily clear voice. He looked straight at Otose, but she was sure he couldn’t actually see her. “I couldn’t protect any of them, and now they’re all dead. I couldn’t save _him_ either. This stupid war, it was all pointless. Meaningless. Just pointless suffering and pointless death.”

“Aren’t all wars like that, though?” she said, knowing full well he couldn’t hear her.

“I couldn’t save anyone. Just dragged them to their deaths.” He smiled a smile that Otose definitely did not want to see. “I went against everything he taught me. So why did he thank me when I killed him?”

Otose sighed, but picked up the cup and the spoon, determined to get some water in him before he talked more about things he’d regret later. “Geez, brat. You’re a real mess, aren’t you?”


	4. Chapter 4

It was mid-morning and Otose was fighting a dreadful battle with sleep and drowsiness and her legs were really starting to kill her from kneeling that long. She was craving badly for a cigarette, but doubted the smoke or the smell would’ve been any good for the boy, so she had to endure it.

He wasn’t coughing often, but when he did cough, it was heavy and laboured, coming from deep down in his lungs.

Soon Otose found herself slipping in and out of a quick restless sleep, so to keep herself awake, she tried counting the kid’s breaths. It’d been hours since he last was even remotely conscious and she didn’t know if he was finally getting some rest, or the fever had taken him too far and he wouldn’t wake up at all anymore. She tried waking him up every once in a while to give him water, but he didn’t react to anything. And forcing water in his mouth with a spoon and a lot of patience only ended in her being even more pissed off and him coughing and sputtering and still not waking up.

His fever was still high and Otose kept cool towels on his forehead and neck and she’d pulled the blanket down all the way to his feet. Not that it helped much bringing the fever down, but at least it’d stopped rising for the time being.

She sighed deeply. She really didn’t think he’d survive this. He was just suffering now and Otose was starting to think that maybe it would be better to stop stalling his inevitable death and just let him go.  

She glanced at the cooled down almost empty cup of sugar water and thought about not filling it again when the last of it spilled down his chin and onto the sheets. She imagined the kid sleeping for hours and getting weaker with every minute, before drawing his last breath and shaking and falling limp as the fever claimed him. It wouldn’t take long for rigor mortis to set in. She’d cover the expenses of having the body cremated. It’d be a quiet little funeral with only her there. Later she’d spend as long as it took to find the man named Katsura Kotarou and she would drag him to the grave if she had to. Whether he’d curse her for bothering about such a small thing or he’d crumble and cry at the headstone of a fallen friend, she didn’t care. She didn’t know this boy, she didn’t know that man, and she didn’t care. She didn’t care at all.

She glimpsed at the cup again, and got up to fill it.

-x-

She’d just spent the better part of an hour trying to get at least some water in him when someone knocked so loudly on the bar’s front door, she could hear it all the way to the back. By the time she made it to the door, the banging had gotten so violent and heavy, like they were ready break the door down if no one opened.

Otose unlocked the lock quietly and then pushed the door open and took a step back as a man stumbled and nearly fell inside the bar. He yelped, but quickly corrected himself and straightened up. There were two men and one of them just opened his mouth to say something, but Otose was faster.

“Can’t you read the sign? The bar is closed.”

The man was obviously not expecting that kind of response as he shut his mouth, looking dumb. The other one seemed a bit bolder and took over.

“Ma’am, we’re here on official government business.”

Otose just looked at him coolly.

“We- We’re looking for an escaped prisoner and we are asking for your cooperation. A highly dangerous criminal has recently escaped from captivity. We have narrowed down his whereabouts to Kabukichou, and we know that he is currently injured and can’t get far, but he has managed to hide.” He pulled out a wanted poster with a face on it that Otose found vaguely familiar. “Have you seen this man? His name is Sakata Gintoki. Also known as Shiroyasha during the war. He is extremely dangerous and must be captured at all costs for the safety of the people in this town.”

She studied the poster. Yeah, it was someone she had seen before.

“It looks like a three-year-old was trying to draw a fish,” she said.

There was a pause. Then the other man leaned in and whispered, “I told you, you can’t draw, boss.”

The boss promptly hit him over the head. “Have you seen him, ma’am?” he repeated.

She crossed her arms against the cold wind. Both men pulled back a little and Otose suddenly remembered that she hadn’t slept properly for days and the last cigarette she had was before she picked up the kid. She definitely looked absolutely horrible and probably even a bit intimidating. She enjoyed that thought.

“No,” she said simply.

The boss nodded quickly. “We understand, ma’am, and we apologise for the inconvenience. Please do call us if you see him, though. Good day,” he said, pushed the poster in her hands and left, dragging the younger man behind him.

“A word of advice, gentleman,” she called after them and they stopped. “This is Kabukichou you’re dealing with. This is the place where the people who have hit rock bottom end up in. Everyone’s so occupied with their own problems that they just don’t notice the people around them. No one cares in this city and you’ll never find him if you only go around asking questions.”

The boss turned around with a smile. “We appreciate your advice, ma’am, but I’m sure we’ll find that bastard fast enough once we put up a reward. People are so greedy here when it comes to money.”

Otose just laughed at that. “Sure, if you think so. Good luck to you, gentlemen.”

She watched them go and knock on another door. Then she closed the door and locked it securely, and hurried back to the boy, hoping he hadn’t died while she was gone.


	5. Chapter 5

Everything looked exactly the same when Otose stepped into the room, but she only sighed in relief when she saw the kid’s chest still steadily moving up and down as he breathed. The fresh air had made her head a little clearer and she couldn’t understand how she hadn’t noticed sooner that the air in the room had gotten very hot and stuffy.

She covered him up with the blanket, carefully tucking in the sides, not wanting him to get any sicker than he already was. Then she opened the window to let in the cold winter air. The view from the window wasn’t much, just the brick wall of a neighbouring house, but the air that rushed in was fresh and cool, with a hint of some alley cat.

She settled down on the floor next to him. She’d been considering calling a doctor, but she was glad she hadn’t now that she knew there was a bounty on his head. She’d have to keep doing her best trying to treat him and if he died then, well, at least he’d do it in a warm bed and not in a cold prison cell.

“Granny?” the boy said quietly without any warning. He tilted his head a little but stayed still otherwise, showing no sign of being actually awake. There was a slight blush on his cheeks from the fever, contrasting his pale face.

She held her breath, figuring he was having another dream or a hallucination or something along those lines. He’d soon start speaking nonsense again.

“Granny? You there?”

Or maybe not.

“You’re awake, kid?”

“Think so.” He grimaced and corrected himself, “Hope so. Wouldn’t wanna have a dream like this… Anyway, what’s the fuss about?”

“The fuss?”

“Yeah. Someone was banging somewhere?” He frowned. “Or did I dream that?”

She smiled and hid the wanted poster in her sleeve a bit better. “You didn’t dream it, but it was a while ago.”

“It was? I guess I… must’ve zoned out?”

“Maybe,” she said and gently touched his forehead. It still felt too warm, but not blazing hot anymore. And yet she still wasn’t sure if him being conscious was a good sign or not.  “It’s nothing to worry about, anyway. Just someone from some magazine. Wanted me to subscribe,” she lied smoothly.

“Really? Damn, they’re getting pretty violent these days.”

“Yeah, they are. I blame the government. How are you feeling?”

“Compared to what? A garbage fire? The resemblance is stunning, I’d say.”

“Don’t joke. You were dying.”

The kid opened his mouth and then closed it again. He frowned. “Sorry,” he muttered.

 “Just don’t do it again. I can’t exactly call a doctor for you.” Otose sighed. He looked like a child who’d dropped a plate and now the shards were all over the floor. “Do you want some water?”

He nodded and she looked at the cooled down half empty cup of sugar water. She’d been trying to get that in him for most of the night without much luck.

“I’ll get you something. Can you stay awake for a few minutes?”

“Maybe? I think so.”

“I’ll believe you if you can open your eyes for me.”

He paused. “Do I have to?”

“Absolutely.”

“Boo,” he said, but blinked blearily a few times before fixing his gaze on her with a slight frown on his brow. His eyes were glassy and exhausted, a muddy red matching the flushed cheeks.

“Okay, that’s enough,” she said.

He squeezed his eyes shut and turned his head away from the window. “What the hell was that about?”

“Just wanted to know how bad your headache was.”

Gintoki groaned. “Y’know, you could’ve just asked.”

“And you would’ve lied,” she said without a pause. She grabbed a leftover towel and went to the window to cover up some of the light getting inside. “I’ll get you something to drink. Try not to die.”

The boy made some kind of affirmative sound at that.

She went to the kitchen and dug out some ginger and lemon from her cupboards. Some actual medicine maybe would’ve been better, but she didn’t know what kind of medicine was okay to give someone with a stomach as messed up as his. She’d have to ask that from a pharmacy later. Until then herbal teas were good enough anyway, and relatively harmless as well.

Otose thought about getting some food for him as well, but reconsidered when she couldn’t find anything that’d be easy enough to digest in her cupboards. Rice wasn’t any good, as she’d learn the night before, and she didn’t have the time to make anything like a broth. If he had made it that far on just sugar water, he’d make it a little longer as well. A trip a few blocks away to the pharmacy was in order anyway, so she’d just stop by the store and get something for him to eat.

As she thought, the kid had dozed off by the time she returned, but rose easily enough that Otose didn’t mention it. He still squinted at the dimmed light but braced himself well for the incoming spoon with warm ginger tea. He didn’t even try to move and he kept coughing, but he looked way better than just a few hours ago and Otose desperately hoped that it wasn’t a temporary improvement.

“I need to go out for a while today,” she said when they took a break from the tea. “You’ll be alone for half an hour or so. Think you’ll survive?”

“I’ll be fine,” he said, but the look he gave her was curious and just a bit resigned. She shrugged it off, though, thinking it was just the sickness. “Hey, what day is it?”

“Monday. Why?”

“Ooh, then if you’re going out, get me this week’s Jump?”

“Jump? You read that crap?”

“Hey! Don’t call Jump crap! They’re stories about young boys’ ambition and hope. You can’t call hope crap!”

“Don’t you know that all those little boys who hope to become a ninja or Shinigami or whatever usually become office workers instead? It’s not real life, moron.”

“Oh come on, Granny. I’ve had enough of real life to last my whole life and I haven’t had the chance to read for a while. I don’t even know if Luffy has found One Piece already? Have Sasuke and Naruto made up?”

“I don’t know and I don’t care. I’m not buying you that kiddie thing. Get it yourself once you’re better.”

“Stingy Granny. No mercy even on the sick,” he said, but the words were soft and the lines on his face kind.


	6. Chapter 6

Gintoki was tired. Tired enough that he didn’t protest when the old lady turned him on his side. She was so careful while touching him, too, like she was afraid he’d break into millions of tiny pieces like shattered glass.

Usually he’d say something about that, but right now he wasn’t too sure in his ability not to break.

He knew the old lady had probably reconsidered and wanted to go out so she could inform the authorities of his whereabouts and gather the bounty. She’d left the door open when she went to talk to those men before and Gintoki had heard most of the conversation. He didn’t particularly hold it against her, the bounty was probably fairly big and he’d caused her a lot of trouble. He should probably tell her to give him up, so she wouldn’t have to feel guilty about it. Maybe he’d do it later, after he’s with that nap that was calling him.

Maybe he would even attempt to escape, but the furthest he’d make in his current condition was the alley. And since it was either die of cold or hunger or fever or whatever in an alley, or die in prison of decapitation, then prison sounded like less effort from his part. He was a lazy person, after all.

So when he felt the vague emptiness pulling him in again, he didn’t even try to find the energy to fight it.

And so he drifted.

-x-

Otose had learned that warm drinks sapped his energy, as if his body was too weak to handle both digesting and being awake at the same time. So every time he drank something, the rest of his body just shut down.

He blinked blearily and let Otose turn him on his side so he wouldn’t choke on his own puke in case he couldn’t stomach the tea. He didn’t try to make a fuss about it and dozed off again quickly after that.

He didn’t look very comfortable even while sleeping, but she thought he wasn’t quite as pale as he’d been for days and even his breathing didn’t sound too disastrous anymore.

She still waited around until she was as sure as she could be that he wouldn’t crash and die while she was gone. She left the window open just a crack for some fresh air, threw another blanket over his feet, and made sure he could see and reach the glass of water in case he woke up. She hesitated a moment with her hand on the door, but then resolved herself to just get everything done as fast as possible and hope for the best.

-x-

Gintoki felt comfortable. It’d been unbearably cold before, but he was warmer now, like there was a thick blanket over him. Or maybe there really was a thick blanket over him because for some reason he felt safe for the first time after what he thought had to be an eternity.

It was weird, though. He shouldn’t _know_ safety.

As much as he remembered, _safety_ should’ve been an unknown feeling for him. He lived in a world where _safety_ was a luxury, one that he could never afford to even know. He lived in a world of everlasting hunger and cold, always ready to fight for his life or die, and he didn’t deserve anything more than that.

So why was he warm now? Why did he feel like, even if he didn’t move, if he didn’t force himself to wake, he’d be safe? Why did he know that someone else would take care of him?

Oh, right.

Because there was a man with a kind voice and friendly eyes offering him a safe place to rest.

How could he forget?

He was in Shouka Sonjuku. The man with kind eyes was Shouyou. He’d welcomed him into his home a while ago and thanks to him, Gintoki could eat actual food and sleep in a warm bed and play with other children and practise real swordsmanship and not just essential self-defence. There were no crows here, no snow, no pain. He was still hungry and his head ached a bit, but he knew there’d be food and water later so he didn’t worry about it. He was _safe_ and that was the most important _._

And he knew he wouldn’t be alone. If he woke up now, there would be Zura telling him he was too lazy and Takasugi would challenge him for a practise match. Both of them were fun to mess around with, and so was Tatsuma.

No, wait. Tatsuma wasn’t there yet. He’d be there later, when they were all older. They’d meet Tatsuma during the war.

Wait… what war?

There was a war, yes, but they weren’t involved in it. Not yet, anyway. They’d be fighting later, but right now he was a child, living a fairly careless life. And any minute now Zura would come in and wake him up. Or maybe Takasugi, trying to defeat him in a match again.

But that didn’t sound right…

So maybe it’d be Shouyou instead. He’d come and call him for breakfast and maybe, if Gintoki made a sad enough face, Shouyou would give him something sweet. Gintoki knew he had a secret stash hidden away somewhere and he’d spent years looking for it, but it was too well hidden. He would find them eventually, though. He would find a handful of scorched candy wrappers under burnt floorboards…

Why were they burnt?

The air smelled faintly of smoke and Gintoki slowly opened his eyes to see what was going on.

He saw the smooth wooden ceiling, the pattern in the boards old and familiar and, oh, there was that hole from when Gintoki had a pillowfight with Zura and Takasugi and one of the flying pillows had enough force behind it that it broke through the ceiling. He’d forgotten about that. He should really ask Shouyou to help him fix that.

Gintoki felt too tired and heavy to even turn his head, but there was a faint layer of smoke in the room, just enough that he could see and smell it. He heard Shouyou call his name from the other room and he tried to get up, but even his breathing felt sluggish and exhausted and sitting up seemed like an impossible task.

He attempted to call Shouyou over instead, but the only sound that came out of his mouth was a weak whisper. He was sure even Shouyou wouldn’t be able to hear that, even though he was knocking right on his door now. He tried calling him again and the sound came out even weaker this time.

The room was quickly filling up with more smoke and Gintoki was starting to panic. He couldn’t breathe well and he was fighting just so he could to move _something._ If he could just move his pinky toe, even that would help.

Shouyou was banging on his door and there was yelling the smoke kept seeping into the room until Gintoki couldn’t breathe He felt the sharp edge of panic rising in his chest and, oh, _that’s why_ the candy wrappers were burned to a crisp.

The school was burning and everyone would get killed and Shouyou would be taken away! He needed to protect them! Needed to tell Shouyou that he’d get captured and killed by…

He did get killed. Gintoki took his head.

The door opened and Gintoki screamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Has anyone ever experienced sleep paralysis? Cause those things suck. I once was sleeping over at a friend’s place. It was fairly early morning and I was the only one there cause she needed to go out for a bit. I didn’t, though, so I gladly used that time to sleep some more. And it was all fine and comfy, but suddenly I wake up at the sound of someone opening the front door. I’m thinking that my friend came back so I keep dozing, but something feels very off. Usually she’d walk right in (and probably beat me with a pillow until I wake up) but there is no other sound, I didn’t even hear her taking off her shoes. Soon I hear someone scratching at the closed door to the room I was in and I try to move so I could see what the fuck she’s doing, but I find that I can’t move. I can open my eyes, but the blanket is in a pile in front of my face and I can’t see past that. I still hear the scratching sound at the door, but my limbs feel heavy and frozen, and I keep trying to move. The scratching gets louder and more frantic until I hear the sound of a child starting to cry. I’m pretty freaked out by that time and I try to kick my leg or try to move the blanket away so I could see, but I can’t do shit. The child is crying pretty loud by then and messing with the handle and it keeps getting louder and louder - and suddenly everything goes quiet.   
> The child starts laughing.   
> And very, very slowly the door creeps open…


End file.
